


Syncopation

by Morethancupcake



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Developing Friendships, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, mention of Simon's dad's passing, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 02:58:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14251584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morethancupcake/pseuds/Morethancupcake
Summary: "Jace is silence. He's the breath before a note. He's fingers holding a bow too tight, knuckles white."Simon and Jace, learning to be with each other.





	Syncopation

**Author's Note:**

> "Done is better then perfect" So yeah, here you have it, a soft Simon story I wrote few days ago, and I was a little meh about posting.
> 
> As usual, all the mistakes are mine. No beta, English is not my first langage, AND. I'm sick. Like, very.
> 
> You can find this story (and me) on Tumblr, if you want to reblog, maybe, or chat a little :
> 
> [go](http://iwanttopizzamanyou.tumblr.com/post/172717804599/syncopation)

Everything around him is rhythm. 

He knows he sounds like the beginning of a teen movie when he says it, and he knows Clary kind of rolls her eyes at him when he does, but maybe it's the fact he loves music, maybe it's because sometimes it's the only thing that makes sense in his life, but Simon knows it for a fact.

Everything.

The soft tap tap tap of his mom's coffee maker in the early morning.

The way his sister knocks her spoon against the porcelain of her mug, seven times, always.

Life is buzzing around him, in perfect harmony, and he knows it sounds cliché, he knows.

Clary giggles and pushes him around, and her laughs is in synch, perfect, too.

 

Jace is silence. He's the breath before a note. He's fingers holding a bow too tight, knuckles white.

Clary smiles, and blushes, and the harmony is shattered, Simon doesn't know how it's possible. He's had crushes before, it's not just Clary, there's something about Jace, about his mismatched eyes maybe, about the way he doesn't seem to care that he's bringing chaos into Simon's life.

 

When his mom asks about what's bothering him, he smiles and shakes his head, wrinkling the music sheet in front of him.

Clary drags him along, and Simon meets other people, new people. 

The first time Magnus smiles at Simon, and tells him he gets it, tells him the world is definitely made of music, Simon can't help the giggle attack, happy and a little drunk on this new life, these new friends.

He learns the cadence of Izzy's shoulders when she walks next to him, the staccato of Maia's lashes when she's blushing.

Clary remains a constant, something good, something familiar like his sister's footsteps before bed, muffled by the carpet, his mother's almost singing her goodnight to them after locking the door.

Jace grabs at him, scowls, and everything goes silent.

 

“This is for you.” 

The silence in his head is deafening, and Jace's frown is firmly in place, but still, Simon reaches for the bag, and after a second seems to remember to step aside. It's stilted, nothing goes smoothly, he bumps into the door, and Jace's hand reaches to steady him but stops midway.

There's a sense of almost, of maybe between them. Jace is almost a friend, he's rude, and snarky, and Simon wants to strangle him most of the time. Jace is a good guy. Maybe.

Inside the bag, there's a selection from Simon's favorite gelato place, and it's way to late for them to be alone together, they're not close, they're not even used to see each other without the others around.

Simon's heart does this weird thing, syncopation, it's not what's supposed to be, it's not what he's supposed to feel, he thinks.

“Heard you wanted ice cream.”

It's true. 

Because he feels sad, because all he could hear all afternoon was the missing part, the jazz music his dad would listen to when he was still too tiny to understand how precious it would feel one day, his mom humming on the couch.

Simon had called Clary so they could get ice cream, and walk around. Go to the movies, maybe.

Clary had apologized, something about Izzy, and Simon had tried to tell her he needed his best friend, but there would always be that dissonance between them, Clary not getting him, and him not reaching her.

Simon knows Jace knows what today is, the way he knows Jace actually picked his favorites, Jace knows him enough to know about his favorite.

The sound of their bowls on the counter is weird, too loud.

“Your family isn't here ?” Jace looks out of place, is jacket still on, ready to bolt it, studying him like he would a feral cat. 

“Mom is working. My sister is with a friend, I think.”

“You shouldn't be alone.” 

Simon almost smiles when he tastes the vanilla, and the cinnamon. Next to him, Jace finally pushes the leather away from his shoulders, and he sighs a little at his first spoonful of chocolate.

It's the first time they both exist together, not really perfect, but moving towards it maybe, just like musicians according their instruments, getting ready. It's that hushed silence, paper sheets being moved, chairs slightly dragged to make space, people breathing in.

“You shouldn't have to beg for someone to share ice cream with you.” 

Simon just smiles, and it feels good. The ticking of the clock, and the sound of traffic, far away. The music from somewhere, outside, and Jace, breathing with him in their small kitchen.

 

“People used to say I was strong.” 

Jace doesn't move, he doesn't really acknowledge Simon's presence, he keeps his eyes on the road, sitting on the pavement.

“My mom started it. She didn't realize it at the time, but she would always tell people how strong I was. How she could count on me, how serious I was.” 

“My father said it differently.”

Jace doesn't move when Simon sits next to him. Jace is a column of warmth, and Simon pushes his hands in his pockets, and tries not to reach, not to touch, because that's not what Jace needs, that's not what Jace wants, not from him, not from anyone, it seems, not even Clary, or his brother.

“I kept thinking I had to be the strong one. Becca was the sensitive one. She got to yell at us, and slam her door. I was the one comforting Mom, and helping in the house.”

“I like your voice.” Jace looks at him, and his eyes are still red, his breath still smells like whatever he was drinking before the whole fight exploded, and Simon feels like he doesn't mind sitting here in the dark, making sure Jace is safe.

“I like yours too.”

 

Becca's routine falters a little, when she spots Jace's asleep on Simon's bed, wrapped into his Batman's fleece blanket. She lifts her eyebrows at Simon, who closes the door with a shrug, and goes under the fluffy white comforter.

Around him, he can hear everything. Becca's footsteps, and the way she tries to be mindful of their guest. Jace, shuffling and getting comfortable, almost snoring into his pillow. He hears the brushing of his bare legs on the comforter, he hears his own breathing, the way the sheets sound different on his own skin.

In the morning, the Batman blanket is forgotten on top of the bed, and Simon learns the silence between them, in a room full of his usual sounds, both of them safe under the white linens.

 

Jace carves himself a place into Simon's life, he holds on to the small part Simon allows, and he looks so happy, here, smiling at his mother, sitting at the dinner table, watching movies wearing glasses and Simon's sweatpants, Simon can't help but wanting more of this, whatever it is.

Your crush, Magnus says. Puppy love, Alec adds. They both smile at Simon, they're all sitting in a Japanese restaurant, and the air is full of many noises, people yelling in the kitchen, plastic bowls being smacked onto small tables, people slurping their food, talking, laughing.

Simon feels himself blushing, and he's glad Jace doesn't notice, too busy reading the menu and asking about his favorite, and Simon falls for everything, the sweater that used to be his Dad's, now on Jace. The way his eyes widens and he apologizes when Simon tell him about the sweater, the way his fingers plays a melody Simon doesn't get on the table, the way he banters with his brother, carefree and almost happy.

“You're good for him.” Alex isn't his friend, not really, but he smiles and he looks happy, so he doesn't answer.

He doesn't really know what to say, anyway.

 

They walk together, and it's an easy rhythm, it's their footsteps together, an their shoulders brushing. It's Jace's arm around his shoulder, and the way they rest against each other, after catching the last train home.

It's his mother smiling at him, and wishing them goodnight, it's the way Jace knows how Becca takes her herbal tea, the way his mom leaves the kitchen door open for the cat.

 

“Hey, what is it ?” Half asleep, Jace's voice is rough, and sometimes it breaks in the middle of a word, making him frown.

“What ?” It's Saturday night, and all the others are partying at Maia's house, and they both ignored they phone all afternoon, watching awful soaps with his Mom. Jace made his own pizza with them, Lewis tradition, and he asked his mom about Shabbat, he laughed at Becca's prom pictures. 

It's boring, and Simon can already feel himself getting addicted.

“That song, you're singing under your breath. Sing it to me. You never sing.”

“You hate it when I sing.”

“I don't.” Up close, Jace's eyes are mesmerizing and his eyelashes are so long Simon can't help but want to trace them with his fingertips, or maybe the tip of his tongue. “Please, Simon ?”

 

He sings, and it's not perfect, far from it. He knows his mom is on the other side of the door, listening, and Jace doesn't close his eyes, immediately, studying him as to make sure Simon would keep singing.

It's hushed, and a little rushed, his voice rough and breaking, but Jace whispers thank you, and Simon doesn't mind.

 

“Izzy and Clary think I'm hiding at your place.” Jace is wearing another of Simon's too big sweaters, and he studies the grocery list he has on his phone, making sure not to forget anything.

“And what's wrong with that ?” Jace makes a face at him, and Simon wants to ask what this is, what it means for them to do the grocery runs on a Monday night, what it means that he's now familiar with Jace's hair not styled, but hidden under a beanie, familiar with the way he mutters under his breath, the way his voice croaks in the morning on his way to work.

“I'm not hiding. I just... I just love you guys.”

“And we love you.”

It feels like a declaration, except no one professes love in front of paper towels.

 

Jace sobs into his shoulder, and Simon can't help but guide him into his arms, because Jace's crying hurts something inside his chest, and in his head everything turns silent. 

“I cried in the movie theatre, too. I get it, don't worry.”

Jace holds on to him, and when they kiss, it's uncoordinated, and awkward, their glasses in the way, but Simon doesn't care, because everything in him is singing to the rhythm of Jace's heartbeat.

“Jace.” Simon kisses his eyelid, and giggles. 

“Simon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading ! If you liked it, please consider leaving me a kudos and a nice comments ? It makes my day :) 
> 
> This is the part where I tell you to drink water, stretch a little, put on your glasses and don't forget your meds. And if you need a snack, go get a snack, life is too short to count calories (coffee is not a snack, I feel like I should tell you and myself).


End file.
